Only in the Movies
by icewulf
Summary: River has never really fitted in anywhere, and the last thing she needs is more trouble. But when she meets the mysterious Mark Hoffman, she can't resist the temptation...
1. Chapter 1: The Race

Prologue.

It was a sad feeling, returning to my apartment alone. Again. It seemed like forever since someone had come down the hallway and knocked on my door, just to come in and say hi. But that was probably for the best. After what had happened, with Mark, it wasn't going to be the same. I loved him. That simple revelation had changed everything. I had only met him for a minute, and it was like a cheesy love seen, one of those 'love at first sight' things. Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it! I shoved all the papers off of my desk and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the mess.

It should have been just a normal day. Go to Uni, catch up with friends, go to work, and then come home. But no. Of course it couldn't. This is ME we're talking about.

Instead of my usual routine, my friends had decided to go scare the crap out of each other in some old warehouses. This of course meant my being dragged along with them. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I went along with it. Their usual ploy is to set up a race through the warehouses and out the other side; the winner gets free drinks all night, the loser buys all the drinks. So tonight, I was one of the participants, (after caving into considerable peer-pressure) with James being the other, having apparently won the last race and our place of choice was an abandoned steel mill. I sighed. I never liked these races, which is why I was always coincidentally busy when invited, but I also didn't want to be the one paying for my extremely heavy-drinking friends all night. James was going down.

So after the usual pep talk, we lined up, and set off at the mark. James went straight for the door, slamming hard into it and falling back, clutching his shoulder. Idiot. He should know by now that these mills are barricaded off from the public;not to mention hobos and such. I went for the drain pipe, up and through one of the many smashed windows, landing lightly on the over-viewing platform above. I could hear James' curses and his footfalls running for another entrance. the whole point was to go through the mill, as fast as you could, and come out the other side where the group was waiting. And yes, this is what usual university students do in their spare time. Or something equally as stupid.

I sped along the platform and down the ladder to the mill floor. It wasn't long before I was charging headlong through the corridors in the general direction of north, although I could no longer hear any cheering of my friends or the footsteps of James; but I was to busy concentrating on orientation the mill's maze of corridors to pay much attention to these thoughts. when I finally reached the last open floor of the mill before I reached the outside, I finally spied some sounds. But these weren't the sounds of rampaging footfalls or the sounds of the road outside. These were closer, softer. I paused for a moment to analyse what my ears were telling me.

The sound was breathing. gentle breathing, like when you are asleep. I scouted round for it, keeping low to the ground and moving as quietly as possible. With what little light was available from the street lamps outside, I made my way round to a small office like area to the west of the mill floor. I poked my head round the corner of the semi-closed of area to see the source of the noise. Now what I was expecting was a homeless guy, with less teeth then hair, but what I found was quite the opposite. A man, in his mid-thirties I would have guessed, lay on a camping bed against the far wall, his face turned towards me.

I don't think I evn breathed for those first moments as I gazed at him, taking in his appearance bit by bit. this wasn't your run of the mill homeless guy. A jacket was slung over a office chair, with not so cheap steel-capped boots underneath. He wore dark, stained jeans, with a plain dark top. It was hard to see in the dim light, but I could see his closed eyes, and his dark (I'm not sure of the colour) hair which fell lightly over one eye.

Suddenly, I heard my friends cheer which snapped me out of my trance-like gaze. Looking towards the window, I knew I must have been bested by James. Damn it. I turned back before leaving to look at the stranger; and was caught in brilliant blue eyes. My heart quickened, and I ran quickly from the building before he had a chance to properly register my presence. Shit.

I stood outside the door, my back pressed against it, heart racing. When I didn't hear any signs of a pursuit, I moved round the side of the building to my friends, who had crowded round James,whooping as I came within view.

"Drinks are on you River!" Kerry shouted, before grabbing my arm and steering me towards the road. Whatever I thought, glancing back at the Mill. Just get me out of here, quick.


	2. Chapter 2: The Apartment

**I just had a flash of inspiration and had to follow on from my last chapter.**

**Author's note: I do not own any of the Saw characters or scenes from the films. This is simply my story invented around film events.**

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So here I am. I got up from my perch and headed into the living room, not even bothering with the lights as I headed towards the fridge. After grabbing a pepsi, I sat down on the sofa, listening to the soft hum of the fridge as I sipped at my drink and rested my head back.

I must have dozed off, because when I lift my head again, the clock on the wall says its nearly half one. I blink my eyes a couple of times and stretch my limbs, then I look around at the dark room, and see the pile of letters on the coffee table. Idly I shift through them. Bills, bills and... what was that? a small, scarlet envelope poked its head out from underneath the mess. Was that there before? I had a quick gaze around at the door which was still secured with chain and deadlock. I rubbed my eyes and picked up the letter. Opening it I read the three printed words.

"Don't move River"

In an instant, my throat closed up and my heart sped up. Was this some kind of joke? Then why was my heart racing so quickly?

Don't be so stupid, there's nobody in here. I shook my head as if to shake off the chilling feeling that was crawling down my spine.

"Don't move River."

This time it was a voice. Deep and mysterious coming from directly behind me. I caught my breath and I could hear his footsteps move to the back of the couch.

"What do you want with me?" I have whispered in fear. I had to resist every impulse I had not to turn round and confront the stranger. But I heard a chuckle, and my eyes widened as I heard the click of a gun. He chuckled again as I jumped at the sound and stood shaking.

"I...If you're g-g-going to kill me," I stuttered through clenched teeth," At least have the balls to do it to my f-face." I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible, but it just radiated fear.

But I heard his response through footsteps, as the intruder made his way slowly, dragging out every moment, to the front of the coffee table. I gasped as he stopped in front of me; his eyes staring deep into mine as he raised the gun to heart level. I was lost for words. How could he have found this place? How could have found me? Known my name?

He tilted his head to the side as he looked my shaking body up and down, finally resting his gaze on my eyes. "Do you have what it takes to survive, River?" I didn't understand. How did he expect me to fight back against a loaded gun?

Then a stroke of inspiration struck me as he smirked, clicking the gun one last time. The next moment, I was kicking the coffee table into his shins, causing him to lurch over, the shot embedding itself in the floor, I leaped across the table and shoved his imbalanced form to the ground, wrestling the gun from his grip. Before I could turn it on him though, he grabbd both of my wrists and slammed the one with the gun in against the floor until I let go of the weapon. A Head-butt to the face had drawn blood, but he was relentless.

I was failing to stop him from getting up, resorting to a sharp headbutt to the nose, but to no avail. Keeping his grip, he flipped me over onto my back and pinned me down onto the floor.

His hot,intoxicating breath assaulted me as his spoke, "Put up quite a fight don't you?" He chuckled at my writhing form.

"You haven't seen anything yet..." I said, whilst kneeing him in some special regions.

As he gathered himself, I released myself from his grip and ran the short length of corridor to my room and locked the door. I rushed over to the phone on my bedside table and dialled the police, as I heard him pounding against the door. Why wasn't it ringing? I looked down and saw the cut wiring, cursing. Another bash at the door and I saw the hinges moments from giving way. I reached underneath my bed for the baseball bat I kept for times of extreme emergency. I think this counted as one. One more kick and the door was down.

The man stepped through the doorway and over the shattered remains of my last defence. Not even I believed my bat would help me now, but I held onto it with cold defiance. He sauntered around the bed and stood just out of reach, watching me closely.

"Now now," he said, brandishing the gun and nodding towards the bat,"Is that really neccesary?"

Smirking in that damn annoying way, he raised the gun once more, this time at forehead level.

"Put. It. Down." He said slowly, but I shook my head stubbornly. Damn it, if I was going to die, I was going to put up a fight.

I didn't even hear the bang until I felt the trickle of blood coming down my arm. Even then, I just turned and stared at the small dart sticking stubbornly to my arm. I dropped the bat as my hand began to lose feeling, and had only enough energy to reach up and pull out the dart before my knees hit the ground. But my body never followed. The man had grabbed me and lifted me into his arms before I had hit and before I lost all conciousness, I stared with dimming eyes, into what I thought was an apologetic face. But I couldn't know for sure before the darkness over came me.

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The man stared down at the sleeping figure on his bed. She had put up more of a fight than he had expected, but now he could appreciate her beauty before the game began...


	3. Chapter 3: Old Acquiantances

Ow. Shit my head hurts. I reached to rub my eyes, but felt resistance. I moved my head round and found it locked in place. What the hell? Suddenly I was wide awake, taking in the situation.

I was in a badly lit room, like one of the floors of the mill. Actually, just like it. Shit, I'm back there aren't I? I looked around at my body. As far as I could tell, I was strapped down to a table, my arms, legs and head held into place. I took a deep breath as I felt pure horror and dread rise up within. I stared up at the ceiling, panicking at the silence of the room. What the hell was going on? Fuck this wasn't happening, not a chance. This is just a damn dream. Not real, not real, not...

"Having fun there, River?" my eyes snapped open to look at the shadow-covered face hovering just in view to my left. Even though I couldn't move my head, it didn't stop me from recognising the voice or thrashing at my bonds in anger.

The man with the blue eyes just chuckled as he moved around the back of my head. I heard a crunch of gears (my heart pausing in its race for a moment) and my platform started to tilt forward, until I was nearly vertical. I burned holes into the back of the man's head as he walked into view, perching on the edge of a table in front of me, sipping at the hot drink in hand. He tilted his head, observing me from behind the cup. I felt his gaze scrutinise my figure, secretly wondering what the hell was so damn interesting.

Deciding to give up waiting for him to start talking, or to do whatever it was, I decided to look for an escape route. Hell, it didn't hurt to be optimistic. As far as I could see there was only one doorway out of the room, and only one window, which had one or two boards across it. Crap. So much for optimism.

A key turning in the door caught my attention, and I stared at the other stranger entering the room. He was just as damn mysterious, not even glancing in my direction, before he had set a small, metal box on the table. He a long black cloak lined with red fabric, with the hood pulled over his head, obscuring his face.

The blue-eyed man leaned over and whispered in his ear and I could make out the small chuckle afterwards as both men turned to face me. My heart pounded as the hooded man came closer, pressing a button on a pillar near me so I was nearly blinded by the spotlight above me. I squinted at the man as he paced slowly in front of me, waiting for him to speak.

He stopped pacing and reaching up to drop the hood. I knew his face, but where from? Damn I hate it when I can't remember things. His name, his name... "John?" I asked, the name popping into my mind.

He smiled at me, but not in an evil way. Just in a smiling kind of way.

"Ah, so you do remember me? It was a long time ago, and as you should know, you've always been good at forgetting the past, haven't you?"

He crossed his arm in that way adults do when they're telling a child off. This pissed me off. If they were going to tie me up, and do... well, whatever, they might as well treat me like a fucking adult.

"What do you want from me?" I replied, ignoring his question completely.

"What do I want? Hmm..." He turned to the other man, who smirked slightly, then turning back," I want to play a game." He smirked and walked off behind me. When he returned, he carried a remote. Staying further back than before, he pressed the red button.

Pain shot through me as the electricity was switched on, then going just as rapidly as it came, leaving me gasping for breath. "What kind of sick game are you playing John?" I half-shouted at the man as he walked right up to me, so our faces were mere inches apart. I stared angrily into his cold, blue eyes.

"Most people are so ungrateful for the lives they have been given. But you weren't, not to begin with." He started to circle around the platform, "I remember the first time I met you, in the orphanage... you were so optimistic and full of laughter. When was the last time you laughed with your heart behind it River?" He stopped circling and came close again, looking straight into my eyes as he continued. "19 years old, and the hope is gone. Pitiful."

This made me damn angry. "Hope? What the fuck did you expect to happen? Life is coloured in rainbows and unicorns John, it'll fucking eat naive pricks like that alive. You wanna know what happened? I grew the hell up!" I shouted at him, as he stood back to watch me. "So you can stand there all you want and criticise me, but you don't know me. You don't know what I've been through..." I almost whispered the last part, looking away at the wall.

He scoffed at the last part.

"Oh really? What don't I know River? The fact that your best friend burned down your first orphanage and beat you senseless before leaving you to burn? Or that at the institute after that you were beaten weekly by the floor orderly because you reminded him too much of his dead daughter? Stop me if I'm missing something River, please." He came up closer as I struggled in rage at the restraints, to which I received a hearty doze of pain. "And what did you do about it? Every time you were confronted by police, nurses, you never spoke out. Not once did you attempt to help yourself."

"Fuck you" I said, shaking my head, "It was never that simple and you know it."

"Regardless of the difficulty, you had countless chances to stop it. But now I will give you a chance."

"You call this a fucking chance?" I said, exasperated.

He just smiled his little smile and walked back to the table, taking the remote from the other man, who was still stood there, watching me. I braced myself for another jolt, only to here the clicking of the restraints releasing. I dropped to the ground, shaky as I stood up. They just stood there, watching.

"I want you to help me in my work River. Help me to help others, and I will help you to regain the hope you once lost and give your life purpose." His words and expression were giving nothing away, but I thought I spied a hint of sincerity in his eyes.

"And if I don't?" Well, I had to ask, wary of the answer. But it was the other man, not John, who answered.

"As long as you don't go to the cops, then nothing. But we shall be watching, and we will know if you do." I didn't doubt for a second that what h was saying was the truth. It wasn't really much of a choice; Hell I wouldn't even call it that. But John was right about what he had said. I never did anything to help myself; but here he was, trying to help me (albeit in a weird, kidnapping kind of way) and I couldn't doubt he probably knew me better than anyone else. How the hell did he know all that stuff? I had never told anyone. But this wasn't the time for those questions.

There was only one question I needed to answer. What did I have to lose?

"Alright John," I said slowly," what would you have me do?"

He just smiled again and beckoned me to follow him through the door. I moved to follow, but soon felt the deep plunge of a needle into my neck, and I passed out before I could even register my confusion.

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**Author's Note: here's the next chapter so far. Hope you like it and I am new to the site, so any reviews, good or bad are welcome :D**

**But once again, I cannot take credit for any of the Saw characters featured in the text, I just write fiction based around the movie.**


	4. Chapter 4: State of Confusion

Again? Seriously?

I shook my head to get the fuzziness out of my eyes, realising that this time I could actually move. I sat up and brought my knees up to my chest, hugging them to make sure they were real. I was back in my apartment. Or more specifically, on my bed.

I closed my eyes, counted to ten, breathing deeply, then opened them again, breathing out when nothing happened.

I looked around. It was exactly how it should be. Window open slightly, clothes in a pile at the foot of my wardrobe, TV on standby. Then why did I feel like this was all a cruel joke? That I was going to wake up the next minute back on that platform...

A shudder crept up my spin, as I crept up to the bedroom door, listening intently. Satisfied with the silence, I twisted the handle and moved out into the darkened hallway. I moved into the living room, checking the bathroom and the still lit kitchen before moving to the coffee table. It was back in its original place.

Had I imagined it? No, I shoved the coffee table to the side, and upon searching, found the small hole in the floor where the bullet had gone. I sat, perching on the edge of the couch and put a shaking hand through my short hair. I had never been one for long hair; it always seemed to get in the way.

Then I remembered the letter on the table, and moved others around to find it. It was gone. Did I really expect it to still be there? They had been careful about everything else. They had planned for everything.

But why was I back here? I had agreed to help, hadn't I? I just couldn't wrap my head around it. I got up and went to the fridge for some milk. Was the light on all night, I thought as I opened the curtain and switched the light off. It was early morning, but my clock had stopped, the crack on its face the only sign of conflict. I shuddered at the memory, opening the fridge door.

But I never reached the milk; my hand hovered, shaking above the piece of card. I picked it up slowly, reading the words over and over.

_We'll be watching._

Instantly I spun round, but the flat was empty this time. It was just me. But that unease didn't leave.

It followed me to my lectures, making it impossible to concentrate in the over-crowded, over-heated lecture hall. Even at lunch, I couldn't concentrate on my friends' conversation, though they didn't seem to notice; being in their own little worlds.

The barely touched cafeteria slop, as we had aptly named it, was thrown in the bin, and I made my way to my last appointment of the day; I was an ambassador for visitors – god, I hated that job; I only did it because it pays more than my actually job. I had to show visitors round; this time it was some LAPD guys who wanted to look round before they came to lecture at potential forensics and engineering students.

Great. I paused by my locker to sharpen up my image a bit, tidying my hair a bit after hours of pushing my hand through it in frustration. I left my bag in it and headed to the entrance hall.

As I came to the last flight of stairs, I paused just behind a pillar to get a good look at the fuzz I was showing round. My heart nearly did a back flip when I saw him. He was a fucking cop? Shit, this wasn't good. Then I remembered that note; shit. Now I knew what he'd meant. But there was no way I could back out now. But at least my friend Alisha was already down there talking to the policewomen. I took a deep breath, then head down, keeping my gaze on the stairs until I hit the bottom, looking round to find my friend.

"River! Over here!" she called. I smiled politely at the officers as I introduced myself, shaking each of their hands. I nearly pulled back in disgust when he offered his, but I had to. Thankfully we shook once, then he let go, with an emotionless smile.

"Right, if you would like to follow us, we'll start by showing you round the engineering workshops..." Indicating them to follow, we moved from the main hall.

The next hour was the longest in my life, I swear to GOD. I could feel his eyes on the back of my neck, observing my every movement the whole time, while I avoided contact whenever possible, apart from when it came to the Forensics lab, (which apparently he is the head of. Of course, it fecking had to be Forensics didn't it?) Then I had to look at him to answer his damn questions.

Finally we came to the end of the tour, finishing outside the Cafeteria. We said our goodbyes, and then parted, almost anyway.

"Miss Green?" Damn it. Like hell it was going to be that easy. I turned around to face Detective Hoffman once more. "I was wondering if you could show me the lecture hall where I will be tomorrow?"

His co-workers just smirked at this; the policewoman – Detective Kerry – gave me a sympathetic look. "Always have to be so organised don't you Hoffman? Sorry Miss Green, he's always like this."

I took a breath then stretched my arm back along the corridor."No problem. This way, detective." He smiled back at my blank expression and followed me down the corridor.

I kept glancing over my shoulder, until he started walking beside me. We reached the lecture hall after a couple of minutes in silence, and I pushed open the door. "Here we are."

He walked in, had a quick look around and turned back to the door, shutting it.

"You're a fucking cop? What the hell is going on?" I said, keeping my voice quiet as I heard students passing. He just smirked, moving closer, circling like a vulture. I clenched my fists. But remained calm. He couldn't do anything in here, could he?

He stopped once more in front of the door and tilted his head. "How'd you sleep River?" For a moment looking genuinely concerned. I shook my head in confusion.

"Tell me what the fuck is going on before I scream loud enough for fucking Cleveland to hear." I said, moving back a little, towards the door.

"If you had wanted to do that, you would have the moment you had spotted me on the stairs. You've had plenty of chances. But the fact is..." he said, stepping closer again," You just can't help your curiosity, can you?" he smirked that damn irritating smirk again.

"I said what the fuck is going on, Detective?" putting sarcastic emphasis on the title.

"This is from John," he said, pulling the letter from his pocket and handing it over. I half-snatched it from his outstretched hand, and looked it over. "It's to open when you get home." Without another word, he turned around and left.

What the hell? I turned the letter over in my hands, looking back at the door again. Then I just slipped the letter into my inner jacket pocket and left, heading back to my locker, lost in that so familiar state of confusion...


	5. Chapter 5: I know you

**Hi guys! here's the new update you've been waiting for. Don't forget to review this chapter please! all comments welcome!**

**and once more, i do not own the Saw characters :) though i very much wish i did.**

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After a long walk home, I finally reached the flat. It wasn't exactly in the most picturesque neighbourhood, but it had some good people around, especially Mr and Mrs. Jones who managed the pub down the street where I worked.

I waved at them as I passed on the opposite side of the street.

But my head wasn't walking with my body. It was far away, pondering the contents of the letter; the identity of Detective Hoffman... that one took up a lot of thinking, until I stopped, suddenly aware that I was outside my flat door.

Well I could appreciate why my friend wanted to be a doctor, the human mind was just amazing. It could get me home without my even consciously navigating my feet. Huh.

I unlocked the door and chucked my bag onto the sofa, while shutting and bolting the door. I rubbed my eyes, and went to grab a drink, my hand hesitating a second before opening the fridge.

But only the sight of orange juice and half-a packet of Jaffa Cakes welcomed me. I needed to go shopping. I poured a glass and pulled the letter from my pocket, leaning against the side-board. I took a swig of the cold juice, and then started carefully pealing the letter open. It was a trait you had to learn with sneaky bosses (not the ones I have now) who put the check near the opening, hoping you would rip it, making it void. Uh, I hated people like that.

I opened the flap and picked out the carefully folded piece of paper. I put the envelope aside and unfolded the letter, taking another sip of juice.

_River, _

_By now you have met Detective Hoffman, and as I suspect, you are confused about both his and my intentions. _

_Back in the warehouse, I demonstrated the importance of my work, though at the time, you probably had a different perspective. Now that you are free, do you still have the will to help me in my work? _

_My friend the Detective will inform me if you go to the police about this, but I know you. You have never been one to trust in Institutions, have you? _

_So I give you one last chance to withdraw your answer, and leave behind the world you have only seen a glimpse of. But if you are still willing, then I am sure you can find me again._

_I will give you until the end of the day to answer._

_Make your choice._

I leaned back. He was giving me a way out? Could I trust him to keep his word? I put the letter back in the envelope. I chucked it onto the coffee table, and went to grab a shower.

When I was squeaky clean, I collapsed on the bed, exhausted by the emotional turmoil of the day. Shit. Shit, shit, shittedy shit. I reached ovr and set the alarm for 11. As soon as my head rested on my pillow though, I was off.

*_A dream*_

"_River! Where are you young miss?" I heard the carer shout from the patio door. But I didn't want to go in just yet. It had started to rain, and the patter of it always calmed me down, especially after I had nearly gobbed that stupid Niall in the mouth after he had called my mother a "Bitch". I wasn't in the mood for the carer either. She never believed me. Niall would give her his damn'd puppy eyes and she'd instantly believe him._

_Then I heard her sigh and return to the house, talking to some new couple who had come to look around. I didn't move though, not like the other children. They wouldn't want a 14 year old. They never did, the couples who come. They want a little child, one that can barely speak or the 5 year olds that are 'cute' because they can spell the word cat._

_Then I heard them talking near the doorway, but I couldn't make out the carer's voice._

"_They are all so lovely John, I don't know how we would choose..."_

"_We don't have to decide right now, Jill, or at all. We have all the time in the world." I could almost feel the smile spreading across the woman, 'Jill's' face. _

"_I'll be right back" Jill said, and I heard her footsteps receding down the wooden floored hallway._

_Then I heard footsteps on the patio, coming down into the garden. I watched as the man, he must have been in his early forties walk underneath the tree I was hiding in, and sit on the bench below. He must have heard a rustle, because he looked straight up at me, and smiled._

"_Hi there." He said, his soft, low voice filling me with a good sense that this man was a good man. I don't know what it was, but I trusted him. He beckoned me down from the tree, asking "what's your name sweetie?"_

_I sat still for a second, then moved down until I was sat on the end of the last branch, just to the side of him, with enough trunk between me and the house so that the carer wouldn't spot me. He smiled at my cautiousness and waited patiently for me to answer._

"_River." I said confidently,which seemed to surprise him,seeing as though I wouldn't even come down from the tree. "who are you?"_

"_My name is John Kramer, but you can call me John. I'm here with my wife, Jill..." he said, waving a hand in the direction of the house. _

_I nodded, shifting my weight slightly so that my legs hung free below the branch. "Why did you come here, John? You don't need another child." I said. He opened his mouth slowly._

"_We don't have a child actually. My wife and I..."he said pausing for a moment as if to consider his next words carefully, "We have decided to adopt a child instead." He finished plainly._

_A small curl of a smile played on my lips. He didn't know. I could tell from a mile off, even though I hadn't actually seen his wife. It was the usual sort of routine for couples, or rather the woman in the relationship, who didn't know they were pregnant already. She would make a generalisation of all the children, her maternal emotions getting the better of her, and then she would excuse herself to go to the ladies room. I was just waiting for the wife of Mr. Kramer to come out with the news. I knew she would find out today; I was always quite good at following behavioural patterns of people._

"_Oh, I said (not wanting to spoil the surprise) my mistake John." I looked down at my feet, for a moment. I had never eeally talked with an adult before; let alone one who actually listened to me. Then I noticed the book sticking out of his pocket._

"_What's that book?" I asked, my interest peeked. He pulled the book out of his pocket and handed it to me. I red the title and smiled. "You believe in the Zodiac?" there was no scepticism in my voice, only interest, and I think he appreciated that._

"_Yes, very much so. Do you believe in fate, River?" he asked, as I handed him back the book. I thought for a moment._

"_Erm... partially I guess. I believe that free will and fate are equally proportionate in our lives. It makes more sense that way than in the books I have red." He smiled at my answer, and I felt that he was pleased I had my own opinion on the subject._

"_I believe you may just be right about that River." _

_I pulled out a folded piece of paper from my pocket and looked at it, unsure whether to show him what I had written. He sensed my hesitation, and held out his hand._

"_May I?" he asked, and I handed him over the little piece of folded paper, which looked even smaller in his hand. He opened it carefully, and red the words that gave me hope every day. When he had finished, he looked at me, a new glimmer in his eye. I think it was... praise. _

"_You wrote this?"_

_I shook my head. "It's the inscription on my locket, but I'm not allowed to bring that outside with me, so I wrote it up so that my parents' words would be with me always." He smiled and handed it back to me, and I knew he understood me. Then I heard approaching footsteps, and saw a blonde haired women running towards us, the biggest smile I had ever seen, lighting up her whole face..._

I snapped up from the dream. Looking round, I laid my head back on the pillow. I knew I remembered his face. But it had been a long time since I had dreamt of the orphanage. I sat up again and threw the covers of me. The alarm clock was still blaring away, though it was nearly 11.15.

I stood up solemnly. Decision time.


	6. Chapter 6: Facing the light

**Ah, so here is my latest work.**

**I do say now, that I again don't own these characters and that the 'Train' quote from Inception is not mine either. But it is just such a good damn quote, i wanted it in there :D**

**enjoy! and please review!**

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Mark walked impatiently up and down the mill floor. She wasn't coming. It was 11.55. Just five more minutes and the waiting would be over, and he could get back to the designs for their latest game. But John hadn't wavered one bit in his confidence that she would return.

"Is it your aim to wear down the floors Detective?" he asked from his seat in the shadows. He was watching the Detective now, his cool blue eyes piercing him like he was made of paper.

"She isn't coming. We're wasting time." He mumbled. He never liked it when John looked at him that way, it made him feel like John was looking into his mind. It certainly seemed that way sometimes with some of the things he said.

"Patience is a virtue, Detective. Didn't they teach you that at the academy?" he could tell that John was only joking, but his eyes said stop pacing, quite firmly. He stopped and leaned against the wall next to John.

Another minute passed.

Then another.

He finally turned to John, about to say he was going, when he heard a thump. They both listened intently after another bump along with a grunt, joined the first.

John turned to him, smiling silently.

I don't believe it, he thought, moving in the shadows to the doorway.

* * *

I don't believe this, I thought to myself. What am I doing? Why am I coming back?

Her feet had taken control again as soon as she had left the apartment with her skateboard. Her mind had told her she was just going for a ride, then she was outside the gate. Stupid feet! She shouted mentally.

You wanted to come back remember? You had a choice this time, my inner voice replied.

What am I? Stupid and suicidal? I asked the voice.

No. Well maybe, but you're here now. Remember that old inscription and follow your heart.

I knew the voice was right, but it didn't have to sound so damn smug about it. I grimaced for the millionth time that night. I am arguing with myself. Again.

Mentally adding INSANE to the category of River, I chucked my board over the gate, and climbed over after it, grunting slightly as I hit the floor. That fight the other night had left bruises. I glanced at the windows, but nothing could be seen beyond the muck and grim that smeared each window of the mill. I moved around to the side door that I had exited before and turned the handle slowly. Then I pulled it open, but nothing happened. No giant rolling stone ball, no arrow traps. I took a deep breath and headed in, closing the door behind me. Creeping slowly down the corridor, I approached the doorway. I stopped when I saw the shaft of light across the entrance. They would see me coming that was for sure.

_You're waiting for a train... _

I heard the inscription echo in my head as I put my foot into the light and moved past the doorway. The mill floor beyond was eerily quiet, but I knew they were still here. I heard shuffling behind me and whipped round to see the detective leaning against the wall, watching me again. Then I heard a chair's legs move and John emerged from the shadows of the east wall.

I moved further into the middle of the mill, coming face to face with John, with Hoffman, moving round to John's side, exchanging a look with him and then leaving through a door at the opposite end.

"You came." He didn't sound surprised. But he couldn't have possibly have known I was coming. But he **was** waiting for me after all. Both of them were.

"I said I'd help. I always keep my word." I said, noticing the tired strain that appeared in his eyes when he spoke.

"We have much to discuss. Follow me." And with that, John led me through a series of complicated corridors to what I presumed was his base of operations.

Hoffman was leaning over some plans in a raised room as we came in, only looking up once to see what we were doing the entire time while John went over explaining the nature of his 'work'.

I had to admit, it was damn interesting stuff. He showed me various designs of his, then as he was explaining a peculiar Iron Maiden-type mask, Hoffman called him over.

Without a word, he left and I took this time to inspect the mask a little more. Peering at it, I could see each hinge, socket and bolt which held it together, then I noticed the designs on the wall for the same mask. It seemed to be missing something though. On the designs, it showed an intricate wiring system that closed the contraption when a timer had ended, but on the model, the wires did not match the first design. Then I realised that it had been tested, as pieces of white material were stuck to some of the nails. A flour bag probably.

I turned so I could watch the two men out of the corner of my eye, but they had their backs to me, looking at something on a computer screen. I wandered slowly, my eyes soaking in every last detail in the drawings and diagrams. Notes, photographs, it fascinated me. When he had said help others, how exactly did he mean I thought, casting a wary glance over the contraptions pictured on the walls.

"River." The Detective called, as he came down to ground level."I regarded him coldly. I still wasn't warming up to the idea of a cop helping in John's 'work', it seemed like even if I wanted out, I could never get help. I didn't like the fact that my options were being limited.

"Yes detective?" I said coolly. He had a hint of a smirk on his face, but his voice remained neutral.

"Here, this is for John to call you on, our numbers are already programmed in" I noticed the 'our' part of that sentence, but didn't ask as I took the cell from him. "You should go home and get some rest; John will call you when he wants you to come in, so for now, just carry on as normal." I gave him the eyebrow at this last part, but he only smirked and walked away to one of the desks near the entrance, shifting through papers.

John passed him and came towards me.

"You have started a journey that will define you from now on. But for now, you must be patient. I will call you when you are needed." And with that he walked away.

I paused for a moment, a little confused, but just nodded at his words and made my way to the doorway.

"Do you even remember the way out?" I turned to Hoffman, wanting to come out with some fantastically witty remark; like hell could I though. The blank look on my face made him chuckle and he moved past me and through the doorway. I followed him quickly as he made his way through the maze of corridors. Hell, I can't believe he can even remember his way around. He stopped at the end of the corridor and unlocked the door, holding it open as I stepped out. It was the same door that James had bashed into during the race.

"Thanks" I said, turning back to find him locking the door behind himself.

"You can stop giving me the eyebrow; I do have to sleep at some point." Fair enough, I thought, shrugging.

He opened the padlock on the gate, locking it again as we stepped through. He nodded his goodbye, setting off in the direction of the road. I followed to the road, then turned back to look at the looming shape of the mill. I doubt this will ever feel normal, I thought.

Dropping my board, I glanced in the direction of the Detective, but he was already gone. I felt a pang in my stomach, but ignored it due to the fact I hadn't actually eaten all day. I pushed off, heading towards home and that half-a-packet of Jaffa's that awaited me.

* * *

**Ah, so I do realise there isn't much in this chapter, but it had to be explained now didn't it?**


	7. Chapter 7: The Invite

**Hello all! sorry it's been a little while, had sooo many assignments due in this last week it has been hard to find time to write!**

**I still don't own the Saw stuff or Hoffman, though i reaaaaallly wish i did :D Enjoy and don't forget to review!

* * *

**

When would this lecture end? It was like torture – wait no, I did so NOT mean that, a flashing memory stopping me in my tracks.

I took a deep breath and waited patiently for another half hour until she finally drew to a close, and had to restrain myself from fleeing the room. I grabbed the pad I had been doodling on for the last two hours and headed to lunch. God this was a long week. I couldn't get the thought that at any minute the phone would ring and I would start helping John in his 'work', whatever the hell that was. I had kept it with me over the last three weeks, but it just stared right back at me with its empty screen. I pushed it back to the special room I had locked away for it and picked up a cafeteria tray, hardly noticing as I nodded yes and no to my usual luncheon meal.

I picked a table further away from the hordes of students and settled against the corner wall. I couldn't have had more than two bits of my sandwich when my pocket buzzed. I stopped for a moment in shock, then realised it was the other pocket and fished out my phone.

"Hello?" I asked through a mouthful of ham and cheese.

"River? Hey it's Alisha. Just wondering if you could do us a monumental favour?" I heard a sniffle and a cough down the other end and sighed.

"I have to take notes in your lecture again, don't I?" recognising the sounds of Alisha after a particularly heavy night out.

"I know, I just needed to get out last night... and I wasn't expecting it to change weather so rapidly and... please? River, oh it would mean the world." She was pleading here and dammit it if I didn't have a damn soft spot for Alisha when she was ill. And I knew how she felt. Being a Med student was hard, with long hours and endless studying.

"Fine, Alisha, what time is it and what lecture room?" now I heard her cough in embarrassment. "Alisha..." I echoed down the floor, an annoyed tone in my voice.

"Um, well... it starts in five minutes... and it's over in the forensics lab, F.14." I grunted, pissed that I had to inhale my sandwich whilst making my way to her lecture.

"You. Owe. Me. Big." I replied, then I saying goodbye, ended the call and rushed to the lecture hall.

Stuffing the last of the sandwich in my mouth, I followed the last of the students into the hall and quickly took up a position against the back wall. I pulled out my pad and recorder and twirled a pencil round my fingers while I waited for the lecturer to arrive.

I wasn't kept waiting long, the door opened and in strode the same dark-haired, blue eyed man I had watched walk away three weeks ago. Of fucking course it would be him. He placed his papers on the pedestal and had a long look at the class, before starting. I kept my head up and held his gaze for a moment before he looked away with the tiniest hint of a smile on his otherwise neutral features.

I flipped on the recorder and leaned back, drawing pad already at work, keeping my mind occupied for the next hour. I only noticed it had finished when chairs scraped back. I stopped the recorder and got up, following the main bulk of the class to the door.

"Miss Green, a word?" Fuck. Fucketty fuck fuck. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? I turned round and crossed the room until I was stood in front of him. He had his usual black and blue suit combo on, and it creased when he folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes Detective?" I asked, watching him tilt his head to look at me, like he could find another side to me when he did.

"How are you doing River? Isn't this Miss Jones' class?" He asked, fake concern mocking me.

"She's not well; I am getting notes for her." I kept it short. I didn't like the way he watched my every move, it was unnerving. I put on hand on my hip. "Is that all?"

He smirked at this. "Since we're going to be working together, I thought it best if we got to know one another. Would you join me for a coffee later on?" I was having a hard time here deciding whether he was being sincere or not.

"Fine, where were you thinking?" I replied, watching his facial features closely. But I could find no trace of malice or mockery in them. He even replaced that damn smirk with a small smile.

"How about... Cafe Latino's. Just down the street at say, 4 o/clock?" I lifted one eyebrow slightly, but I couldn't find an ulterior motive behind his words.

"Sure" I said, then turned and left before he could say anything else. Once I had put enough distance between us, I steered towards the maintenance stairwell. I never liked crowded corridors.

On my first day, one of the cheerleaders had locked me in the janitor's closet. I had banged on the door for what seemed like an hour before someone finally came by and unlocked it. Jerry, an old man by working standards at 67, with short grey hair and a weathered smile helped untangle me from the utility supplies.

"What are you doing in her child, aren't you supposed to be studying or something?" he asked once I had brushed off all the dust from my jumper. I nodded, and he seemed to understand straight away, and pressed something cold into my hand. "Use this next time, and I won't have to find you messing up my supplies closet again." He smiled kindly at me and nudged me towards one of the maintenance doors. I opened my hand and inserted the small key into the lock. I opened the door and turned back to the old man. But he shook his head when I reached out to give him back the key.

"No child, you keep it. Just use it responsibly, I shall know if you do otherwise." And with that he left with a knowing look on his face.

Ever since then, I had used the maintenance corridors whenever possible, particularly when I wanted to hide from people. In this case, Hoffman.

I sat down on one of the stepping stools and raked a shaking hand through my hair. I was always good at keeping up appearances, but when I was alone I felt a drain inside of me. I rested my head against the concrete wall, closed my eyes and listened to the hum and hiss of the pipes in the walls.

Why did he want to talk? I couldn't fathom a reason apart from what he had said. It was logical to get to know your co-workers (which I suppose we were now.) but I couldn't help the warm feeling I felt when I thought of the coffee shop.

What the fuck was I doing? A nice time with him? Had I forgotten the breaking and kidnapping? The electric torture? How could I have forgotten all of that? I slapped my face with both hands. Get a hold of yourself for fuck's sake River. But the warm feeling wouldn't leave, and I didn't want to think about it more than I had to.

We would just have to wait and see...


	8. Chapter 8: Mark's perspective

**Hey there! another installment has arrived! sorry this is a short one, but i hope you enjoy it all the same**

Mark sat down in the cafe, paper and black coffee in hand. She wouldn't be here for another 5 minutes yet, but he wouldn't shake the feeling that she wouldn't turn up. It had been John's suggestion, but he hadn't exactly put up much of a fight against the proposal either.

If he was being honest, he quite liked John's new apprentice. Her short white hair and ice-blue eyes fascinated him, as did the tattoos on her arms that he had glimpsed while setting her onto the electric rack. They were unlike any he had ever seen, harsh and at the same time beautiful. He sighed and took another sip of his drink, glancing towards the door as if she may walk in unnoticed. She had actually caught him off-guard today by turning up at that lecture, which made him smile. Even if she was only turning up for a friend...

In all fairness, he wouldn't blame her for not showing. He hadn't exactly made the best first impression – attacking, kidnapping and torturing weren't exactly high on friendliness.

But he wished she would show all the same. He'd never show it; hiding behind the neutral mask he had perfected during his time on the force. He didn't like what he had had to do to her. She had been through enough in her life without adding to the list. But John was right, she needed help, otherwise she may just go ahead and drown. There was no other way. John had helped him, so he could help her. He just hoped she would be able to handle what John was going to show her.

The door pinged as another customer entered, but it wasn't her. He breathed out; was he actually getting nervous?

Mark glanced at the clock again. 4.10.

She wasn't turning up. The last bit of hope faded with a wink and he drained the last of his cup and got up to leave. He felt his inner pocket buzz and answered his phone with a click.

"Hoffman" he answered, the caller saying nothing in return. Just a fizzing noise followed then a loud bang.

"Hello?" he called as he got outside. He heard a beep and the line went dead. He looked at the phone log, but no caller ID had shown up. Weird he thought, heading towards his car. He shrugged the water from his coat as he stepped through into the indoor car park. He looked back across the street for a moment, but there were no other people coming up or down, so he turned away.

As he began to drive away down the street, he couldn't help the disappointment that lodged in his heart.

**oooo! why didn't River turn up? what was with the weird phone call? find out next time :D**


	9. Chapter 9: First Job

**Here we go again! another installment for all my lucky readers! PLEASE REVIEW! **

Oh for fuck's sake! The phone went dead and I stuffed it into my pocket with one hand while vaulting a low wall.

I could hear the sound of pursuing footfalls only just, over the sound of my heart racing. Why did it have to run out of signal now? I thought angrily, whilst dodging down another side alley. I kept up a fast pace, certain they would eventually give up. That sharp blow to the leg earlier wasn't helping either. Shit, it hurt bad.

_Keep going goddamn it! _My inner voice yelled at me.

_And the yelling is supposed to help, how? _I shouted back, silencing it.

For the record, I know my way through most of the back alleys of this part of the city. All I needed to do was navigate to the police station, which couldn't be more than two blocks ahead now, if my mental map was correct. But they were so close now, and there was atleast four of the bastards. Why the fuck did they have to try and mug me? On today of all days!

I stopped at the end of the alley when it met a main street and checked the road. I had gotten about half way across when a screech alerted me to their presence again. And now they had a car. Brilliant. I dove for the pavement as the car whipped past, missing me by an inch. I rolled awkwardly and rushed to the end of the street. I could hear them getting closer, but I had already turned onto the last road by the time they reached the corner. A large skid followed by an ear-splitting slam forced me to turn. The front bender was a mangled mess and the windscreen was smashed from the inside.

I could only stand there and watch as one of them stumble out of the car, collapsing to the ground. That's when I shouted. It couldn't have been more than two minutes before the cops had arrived, running down the street. I recognised the man ahead of the others as Officer Rigg, followed by a wave of unrecognisable officers.

He stopped just off to the side, "Put your hands where I can see them!" he shouted at me.

I only nodded, raising my one good arm. He indicated for one of the other officers, a woman this time, to come have a look at me. She patted me down for any weapons, then told me to put down my hand and follow her. I nodded tiredly, following her up the road slowly to the station, two more officers falling in line behind me.

We stepped through into the main reception and she sat me down whilst calling for a medic. I rested back against the chair, letting my eyes close for a moment. The doors at the far end opened and I was ushered to the medical ward. Uh, I hated that smell. It was too damn clean for my liking. It wasn't anything personal to the doctor either, but I didn't like them either. Medical facilities in general. I was helped onto one of the beds, and the middle-aged afro-American doctors on call started to analysis and clean my arm.

The next 10 minutes were a blur as the doctor cleaned, bandaged and finally fitted my arm into a sling. The policewoman came back and led me to an interview room. I was left for a while in the room and didn't realise I had fallen asleep until I heard the door close. I jolted back and blinked my eyes to clear my head a little. I watched Officer Rigg pull up a chair and sit across from me, preoccupied with a folder in front of him.

"We meet again Miss Green. Why don't you start from the beginning here for me..." I sighed, rubbing one of my eyes, nodding.

"I had just finishing my last lecture..."

_I stepped out into the rain, pulling my hood over my head. Right. Drop off cassette; meet Hoffman (though I didn't say this to Rigg). I had an hour before meeting him, plenty of time. _

_After dropping in on an ill Alisha I headed back. They must have seen me coming, because the next thing I knew, I was dragged into an alley and shoved against a wall. My assailants couldn't have been more than 22 and stunk of alcohol. I didn't get much of a look at their faces; their hoods shadowed their faces well. I was pinned to the wall by one, who had hold of my throat and arms. They told me to give them all my money and I did, but that wasn't the end. One of them pulled out a knife and told me I had seen too much to go home now._

_I kicked him in the shins, and raced past them down the main road. They kept chasing me until we came to the street outside, where they had gotten hold of a car. _

"The rest you can see for yourself." I finished, taking a long drink of the water they had left me. Rigg nodded, then excused himself for a moment and left. I sighed again. Just another fucking brilliant day for me then.

My mind wandered to the Coffee house. Was he still waiting for me there? That was all I needed. I may not like the guy much, but I felt cold imagining him sat waiting for me. Would he be angry at me when next we met? Hell, it wasn't like I had done it on purpose, but I this still didn't sit right in my stomach. I caught myself sighing again, this time almost mournfully.

Why was I doing that? I shook my head and idly pulled at the one thin braid that lay on my shoulder.

You're in shock, I told myself, you don't know what you're feeling at the moment, so don't think about it.

The door opened again and I was escorted back to the reception. Alisha and her boyfriend, Matt were waiting for me. I hugged Alisha tightly and Matt patted me on the back. I shook Officer Rigg's hand, and he told me they would be in touch soon. The doctor was also there and gave me some papers, saying that tomorrow I should go to the hospital and show them to the staff there and I would be taken care of.

I thanked him and followed Matt and Alisha out to their car. The faded blue fiesta was a welcome sight in the light rain.

"You're coming back to ours tonight. No buts about it." Said Matt as we entered the car. I only smiled at this, only the buzz from my pocket stopped me. I pulled out the phone and stared blankly at the screen.

_Meet me at the warehouse at 7._

_MH._

I took a deep breath then addressed Matt again. "Actually, can you take me back to my place? I need a change of clothes first." He nodded, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Alisha looked back and squeezed my hand.

The drive was peaceful and I had to fight my eyes from shutting all the way there. When we finally stopped, we all got out and headed up to my flat. Once we were in, I didn't want to leave again, collapsing onto my couch. Alisha just laughed and launched herself onto the other couch.

"Beers are in the fridge," I called as Matt headed for the kitchen. I heard the clunk of bottles and he emerged again, passing one to me, then dropping down next to Alisha.

We must have sat up talking for hours, because when next I looked, the clock chimed 10pm.

"I don't think I'm going to be moving tonight guys," I said, looking over at the snuggle-bugs on the other couch. Alisha nodded sleepily and they got up to leave. I followed them to the door, and bid them goodnight.

"We'll come by tomorrow to drive you to the hospital." Matt said before they disappeared down the corridor. I waited 10 minutes until I was sure they had left. Getting up and changing into some old jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, I grabbed my bag and headed to the warehouse.

It took me longer than I had thought, but then I was more tired than last time. But the increasing apprehension quickly evaporated that. I reached the gate, and slipped through, locking the open padlock behind me. The door opened before I reached it, and John beckoned me inside.

I followed him through the maze of corridors to the workshop. He glanced back once or twice, noting the arm sling, but not commenting. When we stepped into the workshop, I saw Hoffman busy with some needles, filling them up with a slightly sickly looking liquid I recognised as the knockout stuff they had given me. He must have felt my gaze because he looked up from his work and caught my eyes immediately. He held them for a moment then dropped them, concentrating on his work.

"It is time we set you to some work," John began, moving to the far end of the room where three or four computers were set up. He pointed to the one on the far left. "See that man? He is your target for tonight." I raised an eyebrow and paused in front of the man's image. Short blonde hair, styled into a Mohawk; murky green eyes; by all accounts he wasn't a remarkable man.

"What do you mean target?" I asked, watching John circle round the desks and pull down a large box from one of the higher shelves.

"You and the Detective are to obtain this man and bring him back here. You will need this." He passed a pig ask over and I turned it round in my hands. "This will be your first task. There can be no room for error here." He added, before heading towards the Detective for a quick exchange of words. Finally the Detective turned to me.

"Let's go" was all he said before moving off to the exit. I followed quickly, mask in hand, glancing back once more at John before leaving.

We walked in silence to a black fiat out back and set off. I watched the world flash past as I waited for him to say something. It didn't take him too long to find his tongue though.

"You didn't turn up." He said, not even looking my way. Was that disappointment I heard beneath his usual neutral tone?

"I was a little pre-occupied, if you hadn't noticed." I replied, indicating to my arm. If he was going to be short with me, then I would be short with him.

"Were you going to turn up?" he asked, casting a glance in my direction.

"Of course I was." I said, a little annoyed he believed I wouldn't even bother. "Maybe next time I shouldn't bother..." I mumbled under my breath. I saw him tense a little at this last part.

"What happened?" he asked slowly, lowering his voice from shouting level.

"I was busy getting mugged, chased and arrested." I replied sorely. It wasn't exactly fair for me to take my attitude out on him. No wait, maybe it was. It wasn't like he would actually be concerned about my safety, just annoyed I hadn't turned up. But he glanced my way again and I swear I saw concern in his furrowed brow.

Shut up, I said to myself, like he would be the slightest bit concerned. Idiot.

"Arrested?" he queried, one eyebrow raised.

"The people chasing me crashed just down from the station and they came running. So no, not technically arrested. Just questioned and fixed up." I replied, eyes dropping to my bandaged right arm.

"Will you have to go again?" he asked, with more than a little bit of genuine curiosity in his voice.

"Probably. I didn't give an official statement." I saw him nod slightly, and then silence followed for another few minutes. I continued to guess the location he was taking me to, but we had ventured farther into the city than I could remember going before.

Suddenly he turned the car down a side street and reversed into a hidden alley. He turned off the engine and looked at me. After a few moments of silence, he pulled a wrapped up bundle from his coat and handed it to me.

"You might need this. Stay back unless you're needed. You are here mainly to observe tonight." I unwrapped the knock-out needle and donned the mask. We exited the car and made our wall down the alley, keeping to the shadows. He stopped at the corner and beckoned me to look.

A car was parked in the middle of the back street, tail lights still on. I could make out the target in the front seat.

Time to bag myself a man.


	10. Chapter 10: Mark POV

**Hello all my many many readers! lol here is another chapter for you! PLEASE REVIEW! I feel lonely without a little bit of encouragement :)**

John's words still echoed in his head. _Watch her closely; her arm may prove a problem. She is not to interfere, only observe._

Behind the mask, Mark could watch her without her noticing his gaze. The bandaged arm was well concealed within her coat, and she had stood back within the shadows of the alleyway. He pulled his gaze away reluctantly; she was a tough girl, she could handle herself. He had no reason to feel this way.

Mark circled behind the car, using the blind spots in the mirrors to sneak up to the boot. He could hear the man speaking to someone, then his door opened and slammed shut. He listened intently as the man circled to the bonnet.

"What are you talking about sweetheart? You know you are my whole word... of course I love you... I don't want you listening to these rumours anymore, okay? ... alright, I'll be home soon..."

During this, Mark had circled round the right hand side, where River could see. The man shut off the phone and laughed under his breath. "Stupid Bitch." He said before turning back to get in the car.

That's when he sprang.

Rushing up behind the man, he attempted to get a hold of his throat. But the man had heard his footsteps on the gravel and had swivelled just in time to knock the guy away. The man leapt at him, punching him hard in the nose, and causing Mark to fall heavily onto the bonnet.

The man pinned Mark to the car, one throat around his neck. Holy crap. Mark struggled to get the man off, throat burning under the pressure, when something slammed into the man, knocking him to one side. Mark blinked through teary eyes, coughing uncontrollably, watching as the black blur that sped towards the man on the floor.

River! Mark snapped to and went for the man once more. The man was quick to recover though, tripping River and slamming another knock-out blow into the side of Mark's head. His mind reeled as he crashed to the floor. River, rolling as she hit the ground, pulled out her needle at managed to plunge it into the man's side. But he wasn't out for the count.

He bucked his head backwards, causing River to pull back. He turned, grabbed hold of both arms, and slammed her onto the car bonnet. River screamed at the pressure on her right arm. Mark's heart stopped at the sound.

Suddenly he was up and hauling the man off of her struggling form, both hands wrapped in a crushing hold round his waist. The man struggled, kicking and bucking, but Mark wouldn't let up.

Eventually the drug took hold and the man fell limp in his arms. Mark dropped him to the ground and checked his breathing. He'd live. He tore off the pig mask and was at River's side in seconds. She was pitched over her arm in silent agony. He pulled the mask away, her bloodshot eyes and broken nose stopping him.

She stared at the man, the shock still fresh in her eyes. He looked from the man to River. He motioned for her to stay where she was, which she barely acknowledged, then ran back for the car.

She was still leaning heavily against the car when he returned. He chucked the limp form in the trunk and went back to her side. Gently he guided her to the passenger seat. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was worried now. She needed to go to the hospital, but he couldn't take her there now. She saw his look and nodded. She understood.

He started the car, his mind only temporarily occupied by the drive to another warehouse. When he stopped once more, he first dumped the limp body at the site, making sure the game was set up correctly like John had instructed him, then drove back to the mill.

All the while, River was silent. She stared out the front window, only barely acknowledging his movements with a flinch when he opened and closed his door.

He was distraught. She wasn't supposed to get hurt. _Watch her closely, _John had said. She wasn't even supposed to get involved. But she had and now her blank expression haunted his thoughts. All he wanted was to make her alright. The small voice in the back of his mind that questioned his feelings was ignored, his worry overcoming everything else.

It took nearly forty minutes to get back to the mill. It was agonising to watch River get even paler (if that was possible). He couldn't stop yelling at john in his head. Why did he send her out in that condition? He should have known better! A deep breath from the passenger seat drew his attention, but she had only fallen asleep. Good. At least she wouldn't feel any pain in that state.

Her snow white hair caught the lights; one small braid lightly lay across her shoulder. A sweat had broken on her brow, and the contours of her face gave away a slightly pained expression each timed she breathed in. Her breathing was regular now, the peaceful rhythm of a light sleep. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped the sweat away. She twitched slightly, but didn't wake. He was glad of that, not knowing what to say if she woke.

Even though the silence crept over him like a silent assassin, he preferred it to the emptiness; shocked blank eyes he knew would be there when she awoke.

He parked the car close to the mill, hidden in a small garage space, then got out. He pulled out his phone and punched in John's number. He answered immediately.

"Is the game set?" he asked, not waiting for pleasantries.

"Yes. But River is hurt, she needs the doc." He said, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. John gave nothing away if he did hear anything else.

"He is here already. Bring her in." With that the call ended. He stuffed it back into his inner pocket and went around to help her out. He opened the door and after waiting a moment to see if she woke, he shook her gently. But she didn't wake. The pained expression had returned, and she moaned slightly at his shaking.

He sighed, cursing inwardly. She was in bad shape. He undid her seatbelt and lifted her out, closing the door quietly behind him. Her warm breath touched his neck, making him shiver slightly. How could she do this to him? He didn't understand her effect on him. He stood for a moment, looking down at the fragile creature in his arms.

_Move, _said the voice in his head. He shook his head and carried her down the winding corridors to the workshop.

The good doctor was waiting, bed set up to receive his patient. Mark laid her down and stepped back, watching with an indifferent expression as the doctor examined her. He winced slightly as the doctor unwrapped her arm to reveal the bloody, swollen mess beneath. He turned away and went to stare blankly at the monitors showing the bastard that had done that to her.

John watched the doctor, receiving good news, he approached Mark's tense figure.

"She will be fine. Her arm needs time to heal." When Mark stayed silent, he continued undeterred. "Now you are wondering how foolish I could be in letting her come out with you tonight. – Mark looked down at his feet – I am not the fool you believe me to be, Detective. I know you have feelings for the girl..." at this Mark shot to his feet.

"What are you talking about? I am mad because you allowed her to go out on such a dangerous task, even though she was injured John!" But he knew his reaction betrayed him. John pierced his mind like a knife through butter, but he would never boast about it.

"That is why I sent her." Mark looked at him, struck between anger and confusion. "You would never have admitted it. Not to me, and not to her. But this has showed you. I said there were to be no emotions involved, but this is only relevant in our work." He left it at that, and went to talk to the doctor, who had finished with her and was washing his hands. Mark was rooted to the spot.

I have feelings for her. This revelation was like a thunder strike. But that still didn't change anything. He was still the man who had attacked and kidnapped her. The 'detective' which she despised; he could hear it whenever she spoke that title.

He walked down and the doctor told him to take her home. "She needs rest, and no disturbances tomorrow. You will have to make sure nobody disturbs her tomorrow either." Mark gave him a pained expression at the thought of staying in her flat all day; but just nodded. The doctor collected his coat and left, a single nod towards John marking his goodbyes.

Alone in her apartment. What would she say when she woke?

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	11. Chapter 11: DeJaVu

**and here we are again! thank you to all my commentiers, you are the reason i write this every time. please keep reviewing :D**

_The rain splattered against her bare arms, the overcast day collapsing around her. I pushed through the crowd, the man in the black coat just ahead._

_You're nearly here, said the luxurious, deep voice. He was turned away. I reach for his shoulder to spin him round..._

My eyes snap open and I jolt up in bed. My eyes remained unfocused for only a moment, and then the room came into full view. It was lightish, early morning struggling to seep through the heavy curtains. I swivelled round so my feet touched the carpet. I breathed deeply a couple of times. How had I gotten back here? The last thing I remember... hell, it had to be when Mark had started the car back to the mill. Wait, I'm calling him Mark now? I shoved a hand through my bedraggled hair. Just in shock, that's all.

The light was on in the bathroom and I could hear a tap running. I gulped a little as I tried to lift myself off the bed. A sharp pain in my arm causing me to yelp. The tap stopped in the bathroom. I fumbled underneath the bed for my bat. This felt way too familiar for comfort. I approached the door, bat half raised. I kicked the door and heard it thump against something. A voice grunted and the figure stepped around the door, leaning into the doorway.

"Was that really necessary?" The Detective rubbed his stomach and stood up straight. I cursed and stood back.

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment Hoffman?" I said, not letting go of the bat. He tilted his head and smirked.

"How'd you think you got home last night?" he laughed at my puzzled expression and wandered down the corridor. What the hell? I thought. I followed tentatively, watching him pull a bottle from a carrier bag and settle back on the couch – MY couch. Fine, so he may have brought me home, but why was he still here?

"Great. So you found some humanity in that body of yours and brought me home – after I saved your butt I might add. But then usually, you're supposed to LEAVE." I put particular emphasis on the last part. He put the bottle on the coffee table and looked at me, folding his arms across his chest.

"Like it or not, John says your not to leave the apartment until tomorrow when the doctor comes and that means someone has to stay and watch you don't try to sneak out." He gave me a 'tuff shit' look then picked the bottle back up, supping at it and casually watching my reaction to this unwelcome piece of news.

I didn't know what to say so I shook my head and headed for the kitchen. I shoved a hand through my hair as I opened the fridge. There was a distinct lacking of alcohol related products. I turned my head to find his damn'd smug face watching me.

"Alright. Where are they?" he chuckled and set down the bottle, shaking it to draw my attention. The carrier bag. I walked back to the coffee table, but the bag was wrenched away before I could go for it. "I think you'll find those are mine." I said calmly, nodding to the bag's contents.

"You're not allowed any for the time being." His smirk had returned, the corner of his mouth slanting upwards. "But you're free to try and get them; I'm getting bored..."

He didn't get to finish that sentence, because I was across the table, snatching the bag from his grasp. He grabbed my waist before I could make a quick getaway and threw me onto the other sofa, the bag back in his hands.

"Nice try..." I launched for the bag again, this time ripping it open, the bottles clunking against the carpet. He had a harder job on his hands now. I picked up one and retreated to the kitchen. Before I could start chugging the opened beer though, he was wrenching it from my grasp and proceeding to pick up the others from the carpet.

"Like hell you do!" I shouted, jumping onto his back and throwing him off balance. We collapsed to the floor in a heap. I scrambled away, grabbing at as many bottles as my on hand to hold and then shot behind the TV. But he was already up, and tackled me onto the couch. I rolled away before he could get to me, kicking at him. He grabbed my foot and wrenched me towards him, but I slammed my other foot into his shin, causing him to pull us both over onto the floor.

I yelped in pain as my arm clashed with the coffee table and rolled to the ground, clutching my arm. I didn't hear him get up, but suddenly I had his arms under mine and I was being lifted to my feet.

I was too in shock to say anything as he half-carried me back to my room. He let me down on the edge of the bed and knelt down. He pulled my other arm away and had a look at the bandages, gently putting pressure on different parts until I winced when he got nearer the elbow. He shot me a quick look, but it was too quick for me to fully register the worry written on it.

"This is what happens when you don't listen." He mumbled. I actually laughed out loud at this. He rested back on his haunches and raised his eyebrows.

"I think you will recall that it was **you** who challenged **me**, Mark." I stopped then though. His eyes widened at his name. My mouth just hung open. Why did I just call him that? Out loud? He seemed just as surprised, then a small smile crossed his lips and he got up.

"I ran a bath for you. I have to go out for a little while, so just stay here." He paused at the doorway, looking back the smirk returning slightly. "Oh, and I'll be taking the booze with me." With that he closed the door, leaving me in the silence of his absence.


	12. Chapter 12: A little Hope

**Sorry guys! it has been soooo long since my last update. but i promise more will be coming! i have had exams and assignments running riot for the last month, but now i am free!**

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A smile grew on Mark's face as he closed and locked the flat door behind him. He leant back against the door, the smile never leaving his features.

She had called him Mark. She had never called him by his name before. And it wasn't done out of malice or distaste. It was done out of laughter and playfulness. The very sound of his name from her lips had made him want to take her there and then. But he had withheld in shear astonishment, covering it well (he hoped) from her suspicious gaze that seemed to be on him all the time.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt her watching him, but when he turned her way, she would dart her eyes away and blush just a little. No. He was imaging feelings that were not there. He daren't hope. Not after all he had done.

She was ill. That must be the reason for her behaviour. Nothing more. He would go get food and come back and think no more on the subject.

Yet as he set his face in stone once more as he headed for his car, his thoughts ran circles around her face, in pain. It didn't matter if she never grew to like him that way. He could never see her get hurt like that again. He would talk to John tomorrow.

This had to stop.

* * *

I just stared at the doorway. Why had I said that? I ran a hand through my ruffled hair and glanced towards the bathroom. He had even run me a bath! Was I missing something here? I wasn't the slowest person in the world, but these signs spoke for themselves.

Even if John had told him to stay here (which i still doubted) he could have just remained on the couch and not done anything. He didn't have to take away the alcohol or run the bath, or help me back to my room...

Was I crazy to think he may actually like me? They did always say that you were meanest to those you liked, but isn't that just when you were little? It has been too long since my last relationship, I don't know what to think. Should I ask him? God, why did I sound just like a teenager again. But I didn't want him to laugh at me any more than usual, and I don't think I could stand the embarrassment. I shouldn't be thinking like this, it would drive me crazy.

I got up unsteadily and walked into the bathroom. Fresh clothes and towels were laid out on the sideboard, even if he had no fashion sense or colour sense whatsoever. I closed the door and stripped down, tentatively stepping into the hot water. After the initial singe of the water, I laid back and let go off some of the tension that had come from the past days. But I couldn't shake him from my mind. Did I like him? Maybe I should focus on that. I made a list:

1. He had broken into my house and kidnapped me.

2. He worked for the police Forensic department, so there was no chance of me ratting them out.

3. He was handsome, in a dark and mysterious kind of way.

4. He was actually looking out for my well-being (though whether this was out of choice or not I don't know)

5. He had drawn me a bath.

That was all I had at the moment, but it all did kind of swing to a positive overview, though I wasn't sure how I could push past the whole helplessness that I felt at my situation.

This needed more investigation first before I decided on anything. We would see what was what when he returned. For now, I would just try to enjoy my bath.

* * *

Mark wasn't long at the shops, grabbing some takeaway food and headed back to the apartment. He was close to the apartment door when he heard something smash inside. He charged to the door and swung it open, worried eyes scanning the room. But there was no emergency. Nothing had smashed as far as he could tell, apart from someone on the television that was blaring out across the darkened room. He heard soft breathing and moved closer to the couch to look down on River's sleeping form.

He reached over and switched the volume down on the TV. Walking slowly round, he took in the beautiful sight. She was curled up on the couch, head hanging against the pillow, arms hugging her body from the lack of a blanket. He smiled and took off his jacket, drapping it over her lightly, careful not to wake her. She mumbled a little but didn't stir. He placed the food on the table and sat down in the empty armchair, absently flicking through channels.

Every so often, he would find himself staring at her. Her white hair glittered in the light of the TV and she looked so peaceful. He had never seen her like that before; He could have watched her like that all night. But John seemed to have other plans.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he was more than tempted not to answer it. But he knew better. He walked into the kitchen and flicked the phone open.

"Yes?" He answered, waiting for John's instructions.

"The game is about to begin. Get down to the warehouse. Bring River." The call ended before he could protest at such a outrageous suggestion. Why would he do that when he himself had strictly said that she wasn't to leave at all today. Bastard, he thought whilst walking towards her bedroom. He grabbed her coat from last night and went to wake her up. He paused for a moment to savor the serene scene, then shook her shoulder briskly.

She blinked her eyes open and mumbled something along the lines of "gothehellaway... stupidmancantletmesleep..." whilst pulling his coat over her head. He smirked at this last bit then spoke.

"Get up, John wants us down at the warehouse. Now." He chucked her coat at her head and grabbed his before she could register its presence properly. She shot him a look then rose and followed him out the door, rubbing her sleepy eyes. They said nothing until they had entered the car and had began to move off.

"Why does he want us now?" She asked, gazing out the window at the empty streets. She looked even more tired than before. He just shrugged, not really knowing the answer himself. He couldn't understand John's reasoning and he didn't trust himself not to say something to her. She just sighed and went back to looking out the window. But not before she had caught a glimpse of his worried face in the window...


	13. Chapter 13: A case of perspective

**Hello my faithful readers! I apologise a gazillion times for the seriously late update! but exams are over now, so an update should occur every week!**

**Just a quick note though, I have updated ch.12 with xtra content which you might want to check on before reading this, otherwise you may get confused. **

**Hope you enjoy and I look forward to your reviews! :D**

Mark pulled up near the warehouse and climbed out, watching warily as River did the same. She seemed to be holding it together; there were no obvious signs of exhaustion apart from on her face.

She glanced his way, but only for a second, and then headed towards the nearest entrance. Mark followed, unlocking the door to allow them through.

He was fuming at the moment, struggling to keep it from showing in his stance and face. How could John do this? She could have waited until the next target. It needn't have had been this time round. As soon as he could, he would pull John to one side and tell him straight.

But then he stopped his thoughts. What if River became angry at him for doing that? After all, she had agreed to help John which meant learning the true meaning of his redemption. Mark's confliction only grew greater as he led them down further into the warehouse, down to the third floor basement area, where the game was set.

John was stood near the door, checking over the door's spring-lock timer. He turned slightly at their arrival and nodded towards the room ahead. Mark approached cautiously, crossing through to find the man already strapped into his chair.

River stood aside, watching curiously from a distance as Mark checked over all the catches, setting the Venus Fly trap securely. He finished up and indicated for River to follow him out. The Door shut behind them and John proceeded back up the stairs.

Back on the basement's first floor they entered a small room tucked away at the back of the warehouse. Inside were several monitors showing the target's room, and others showing images from inside and outside the warehouse itself. John settled in one of the chairs set out and motioned River over to the monitors. She moved to the computer chair and John spoke quietly to her for a moment before rising and crossing to me. River stayed where she was, inspecting each monitor carefully.

John nodded to the door and we left the room. After moving further down the corridor, he stopped and turned to me. "I suspect you are displeased with my request for River to be brought here." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

Keeping his voice low, Mark answered furiously, "What the hell are you doing John? She is injured for God's sake and you're dragging her down here to watch a game when she could have easily waited until the next one!" He clenched his fists in an effort to still his anger. John remained passive as always.

"No. She needs to see this. She needs to know that this is a journey which will define her, that we are not merely talking, but acting. I need to know that she can handle what she is to be shown. If she is not, there is still time for her to leave our path and find her own." John crossed his arms against his chest and tilted his head at Mark. "You needn't be worried. She is merely observing."

"Like last time! You knew that man was going to be more difficult than you let on! She had no choice but to get involved even though she was meant to be 'observing' only." Mark knew John had a point, but he wanted to make sure John knew he couldn't keep doing this. "She needs rest and she needs to go home. Her friends said they were coming round tonight to check on her! What will they do when she doesn't answer?"

"That has been taken care of." He said nothing more on that subject, but attended another instead. "She has made quite the impact on you hasn't she Detective?"

Mark sighed in frustration, string back towards the control room. "I think she has."


	14. Chapter 14: Its time to start our Game

I shifted uncomfortably in the chair, eyes roaming the room around me. Anything to prevent myself from staring at the screens in front of me. The image was still the same as before; the man was strapped down onto a metal platform, arms and legs bound by leather straps. He kept tossing his head in his sleep, like he was having a bad dream. He hadn't seen anything yet.

I rubbed my eyes and listened intently, but the door wasn't yielding any answers to John and Hoffman's conversation. Fine, It didn't matter, I thought, I am here to observe the game, not find out the latest gossip from the Jigsaw gang. I turned my attention to the screens, but nothing had changed. As I sat there watching him in his fitful sleep, I realised that I felt little malice towards the man now strapped helpless to the platform. I had thought I would have felt something akin to anger, maybe even hate. But I was surprised at my own detachment from him. There was no sympathy only curiosity.

Was this how it was? Emotional detachment from the subject, only cool observation of events? I wasn't sure how I felt about such a role. I had always looked at the calm and collected individuals in my life as cold and unfeeling. Could I do this with emotions? Or would that only prove my undoing?

Listen to me, I thought, I am getting WAY ahead of myself. This was only the first game. It was too late to walk away even if I wanted to. I had chosen to see this through. In an odd sort of way, my fate was attached to this man's. My reaction would determine my usefulness to John's cause, and I don't know what he would do if I reacted badly...

I shook my head again. Just calm yourself River; it'll be what it's meant to be. But I didn't have time to deliberate anymore, the man had awoken.

Before we could continue our conversation, the door creaked open and River beckoned us through to the screens. The man was beginning to stir. The game was ready to start.

Stepping back from the screens, Mark watched River closely out of the corner of his eye whilst the game began to unfold.

He could hear dripping close by and scrunched his nose up at the sudden stench that assaulted his senses. He tossed his head to the side and reached up to waft the smell away, but his arms stuck in place. He opened his eyes, blinking into the light then searching for the obstruction. The cool metal of the platform caught his attention first. "What the fuck?" he whispered trying in vain to move his legs off the cold metal. He attempted to bring his arms up again but could only just see the leather restraints. Panic began setting in and he bucked ferociously on the table. "Fuck!" he yelled in frustration scanning the room until his eyes rested on the small camera in the far left corner, just above a TV set. "Hey! Motherfucker, come down here and face me!" he shouted in vain.

Suddenly the TV flickered and a screen popped up. A doll, dressed in a simple black suit and red bowtie turned its wooden head towards the screen. Its freakishly white features tilted until its red eyes seemed to look right into his.

"_Hello Dan. I want to play a game. For years you have run from those you owe, but today these debts have finally caught up with you. No more running Dan. In order to survive, you must reach the key hung above you. If you do not do this in the next 45 minutes, the platform you are lying on will receive 2000 volts of electricity. I'd hurry if I was you, or else the shock may kill you. Let the game begin"_

The screen fizzed and blacked out. A light flashed to a timer suspended on the right-hand wall and started its countdown. The clasps at his wrists snapped open and he immediately sat up, reached forward to try undoing his feet straps. But these were bound and no matter the struggle he could not pull them free. He looked above and saw the key dangling above.

Pushing down on the table he lifted himself up, snatching the key within easy reach. He unlocked his left foot but could only stare in horror upon realising that the other clasp had no keyhole. "Fuck! Fuck fuck!" he screeched tossing the key down. He yelled in vain as he tried once more to squeeze his foot through the clasp. Yelping in pain he slammed his fist down on the table, cursing. "What do you want from me?" he yelled at the camera. He sobbed searching the room for something else. Then he saw it.

Laid down beside the left of the platform was a hammer. A sledgehammer. He shook his head not wanting to believe his eyes, but understanding its purpose immediately. He didn't want to stop me from escaping; he wanted to stop me from running. He punched the table once more, staring in hatred at the camera. He looked at the timer. 15 minutes to go.

He screamed pulling at his straps, yelling at the camera, anything but reach for the hammer. Finally he breathed out in gulps, staring at the solid metal below him. He brushed away the dirt and tears from his face and started to reach down slowly for it.

He lay down until he was stretching to his limit, until his fingers grasped to wooden handle. He pulled himself up, and laid the hammer on his lap. His eyes flickered to the timer again. 5 minutes. Time to choose. He grasped the hammer in one hand, then both looking down at his trapped foot. One blow, maybe two then he was free. He could do it.

He breathed in deep, took one last look at swung. The hammer fell lightly on the side of the platform. He shook uncontrollably, sobbing into the material of his trousers. " I can't do it. I can't. I can't"

He stared one last time at his foot then started to raise the hammer once more. Too late. A bell shrilled out and the unmistakeable sound of a charging electrical current hit his ears just before the pain and the blackout...

Mark watched coolly as the man shook, frothing from the mouth, smoke rising from his body until the electricity stopped and the limp corpse collapsed onto the platform. But this concerned him little. He watched closely for River's reaction, but the only reaction was a slight paling when the smoke started rising from the body.

John moved past her, turning off the screens one by one. He moved round the back and started unravelling the wires and placing them neatly on the tables. River stood slowly, turned and walked out the door. Mark moved to follow, but John stopped him with a quick shake of the head which roughly translated to, "Give her a moment."

I breathed deeply, pressing my back to the wall just down the corridor. The smoke had been the only thing to break through my cool persona. Flashes of burning floorboards and blurry figures snapping across my vision but I quickly expelled them. It's not the same, I repeated in my head. This had cause; purpose, even if he had failed in the end. It just proved that he valued his lifestyle more than his life and that he was unable to do what needed to be done in order to survive.

So this was his method. To be completely honest, it scared the shit out of me; but fear was a good thing. It kept you alive, kept to smart, as long as you could control it and not let it control you.

Maybe I could do this after all...


	15. Chapter 15: Courage

**Hello everyone! I bet you thought I had forgotten! Well I kinda had done... but I am back now, with an all new chapter, and I am alreayd writing the next one! I promise to update soon! Don't forget to review, I look forward to hearing from you!**

**Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own anything from the Saw franchise.**

The urge to close my eyes and sleep right there, leaning against the dirty, decaying warehouse wall in amidst the dusty and small creatures which inhabit the dark and dank places of the world. It was nearly overpowering, my eyes were already flickering in anticipation. It was something I was quite akin to doing after distressing events, a defence mechanism that I had carried from childhood.

Just remember what John said, a little voice whispered. Leave behind that life, learn how to live – start again. That has to start with opening your eyes. Open them. NOW.

They opened again, waking instantly. Pushing away from the wall, I began to adopt my blank mask, then thought again and dropped it – it was almost an instinctual reaction for me. Why bother though? From what I had seen of John so far, he would know, I could feel it in his stare. He knew more about me than anyone else, and it scared the crap out of me. I had to find out more; how he knew so much.

Another question added to the fast growing list, I walked back to the small room, where they had already packed away most of the equipment. Hoffman raised his eyes from packing for a moment to glance my way, but otherwise showed little interest in my return. Though I could feel a tension in the room which I don't think was there before…

John patted him on the shoulder a shared a look with him, then Hoffman stood, with the equipment neatly packed in a plastic box and left the room without a word, the door sliding closed with a click. John leaned back against the metal desk and watched as I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking anywhere but at him. But I felt like my eyes were being pulled towards his and when they met, he stared dead on into them, making it impossible for me to look away.

"How did it feel, when you watched this man lose his game? To know that that was the very same platform you yourself lay upon, not three weeks ago? You left the room." His eyes weren't accusing or damning; they were set on mine in a stare which said, this was the time for complete and total honesty in him.

"Nothing, at the start… maybe I was, disappointed? He just… he only had to…" I drifted off and John nodded slightly, but he waited patiently as a wave of realisation hit me. "That was going to be me, wasn't it? That platform, I recognise it now! But it's been modified…" a pained expression that quickly spread across my face only made me feel cold inside. John tilted his head slightly, still fixing me with his gaze. He was waiting for something else.

"Why wasn't I on that platform John?" I asked tentatively. He shook his head.

"If you need to ask, the you are not ready to know." This frustrated me, and must have showed because he pushed away from the desk and stood straight in front of me. I looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

A hand tipped my chin upwards to him again. "It will make sense, in time." He assured me then dropped his hand and moved to my side, leaning over slightly to whisper in my ear."

"But that wasn't what upset you." A statement. I nodded.

"The smoke…" I felt him, rather than saw him nod as he moved to the door and held it open, motioning for me to join him.

We walked in silence back outside to the car. I stood aside as John and Hoffman loaded the boot and looked back at the warehouse. It was dirty and looked small next to the big factories behind it. The low yellow light of the nearby road barely penetrated the shadows. I took a breath and turned back at the soft sound of the boot closing. Hoffman opened the passenger-side door and I got in, noticing a distinct lack of seatbelts in the back. I let it be though, and leaned back into the seat. They got into the front and set off.

The ride back was not as peaceful as I had hoped it would be. I could not shake that image of the smoke from my mind, and it increasing brought back more images from the orphanage. All the smoke, so black… I felt a little panic rise in me, but shook myself mentally. You don't need that right now, just let it be, the little voice said. It was right. I had never been comfortable around fire, so I don't blame myself for being a little shaken, but I would not be seen losing it in this car.

I stared out the window at the darkened buildings we had begun to pass through. I could just make out my reflection in the window, like it was hiding from me. It looked drawn, and cold. My eyes were shrouded from the reflection, for which I was glad. I didn't know what I would find there if I looked.

For some reason, it just occurred to me then that I had homework for the lecture tomorrow. That is not quite what I expected to be worried about right now but ok then. I just had to finish that report on Churchill's policy during the War and that was it. History, my choice subject and university, ain't that ironic? I like looking into the past of anyone but myself…

The car was slowing all of a sudden, pulling me away from those odd thoughts. The car turned into a family back alley and stopped. This was my stop. I pulled the handle to get out but an arm caught my own.

"This was an important first step. You must reflect on what happened tonight, and why. Be ready for the next time we meet." John's words sunk deep and I merely nodded as I got out and closed the door behind me. I heard another door open and looked around. Hoffman was also getting out? He closed his door and the car drove off, leaving us behind in the alley.

In the dark, the shadows seemed to swallow half his face. But one eye shone out and held me for a moment before gesturing for me to proceed. Had I imagined it? Or was there some worry in there?

I couldn't know for sure, so I walked round to the back door of the apartment block and entered. I pushed the button for the 7th floor as we got in the elevator and sighed a little when the doors closed on us. I felt the tug as the lift began to ascend, and I snuck a quick glance sideways at Hoffman. He was stood straight in front of the elevator doorway, his back to me. He really was quite handsome, in a rugged sort of way, his broad shoulders giving him a strong standing. He glanced back, as if he felt my gaze and I thought I spied the smallest of smiles.

All too quickly the doors opened and we were quickly out and entering my flat. I hardly even glance back as I hear Hoffman close the door behind us, and I half fall, half jump onto the nearest couch. I let out a sigh of satisfaction and I hear a small chuckle. I open one eye and peer at him as he makes his way around to the other couch and collapses on it. He spreads his arms above his head and puts them over the back of the couch. I could care less though, the couch being so damn comfy, I could just… fall asleep right here.

* * *

Well that didn't take long, he thought to himself as the slow rise and fall of her chest indicated. He reached forward carefully and took the keys that were loosely clasped in her hand. The touch of her cold hand against his took away his breath for a moment, as she moved ever so slightly in her sleep. He pulled away the keys quickly and moved to lock the door. Once all the locks were in place, he allowed himself to relax a little bit. He didn't have to be in work tomorrow, so it didn't matter if he spent the night here. Though he was wondering what her reaction would be in the morning. It didn't seem to quite register with her, he didn't think, because there was little sign of protest or any discomfort.

He moved back around to her side and knelt down. She was breathing so lightly, she could be a statue. He reached forward and moved a piece of that beautiful, white hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Nothing should obscure this face, he thought to himself. He caught himself thinking like that, but he was starting to not care if he did. She had shown incredible courage tonight, and he had felt a strange mixture of pride and … something else when she had come back into the room. He was glad she had returned, for he wasn't sure what to do if she didn't.

He shook his head to dismiss such thoughts. He looked around for a blanket and when he didn't find one, he looked back at her again. Would she wake if he moved her to the bedroom? She would surely sleep better in her own bed, rather than the couch. He touched one arm and encouraged by the lack of disturbance, reached under her to lift her into his arms. He stood up and stopped. He could feel his heart starting to pound a little faster in his chest when he looked down at her sleeping form, one arm now pressed to his chest.

He moved slowly, still watching her as he moved around the couches, down the hall and into her bedroom. He set her down on the left of the bed, and slipped of her shoes before pulling the covers up. He smiled a little to himself when she turned a little in her sleep and hugged the pillow. Then he stepped away and left to make himself comfortable on the couch….


	16. Chapter 16: Just a little relaxation

**Hi guys! The newest chapter here for you! I hope you enjoy it! and once again, I do not own anyone or anything from the SAW franchise in this story, only the O/C's themselves. Thanks again and don't forget to review!**

The smoke was clogging up my mouth, my nose, my eyes, there was so much of it… I could hear the yelling far off, but I couldn't find my way to it… the heat was unbearable, I needed to find an exit now!

What was that? That glint through the smoke? A window?! I pushed myself towards the twinkling in the dark…

There it was; I could see the garden outside. But the window wouldn't budge. I had to break it open, need to find something….

I scrambled around but I could feel my head getting foggier with the passing seconds. Why couldn't I find anything?! There was another scream through the smoke…

I couldn't stand it any longer, I used my elbow… over and over, until the window smashed and the glass was cleared enough for the smoke to dissipate a little and for me to haul myself out.

The cold, wet grass greeted me and I couldn't be happier for the air filling my lungs.

Then I heard the rushing steps on the gravel and turned in surprise and happiness to the silhouette of my best friend coming rushing down the gravel…

* * *

I woke slowly, the light peeking through the curtains at me. Where was I? did that question really matter right now? I don't remember the last time I have slept so well. I was so comfy on the couch I could almost go back to sleep.

But the light was out, and I should really get moving. What day was it again? I didn't even remember. Where is my phone? I rummaged around my couch for my mobile. But this isn't what my couch feels like. It feels more like my bed… I dared a peek above the blanket. This isn't my blanket either… it's the duvet?

My head was still a little foggy as I sat up and pulled back the covers. Why am I still dressed? I searched the room and found my phone lying on the dresser. I looked at the time.

10.47.

I charged into the front room, to then panic at the lack of keys to open my front door. Where were they? I was supposed to hand in that assignment at 12! Damn damn damn damn!

It took me a few minutes before I registered the jacket laid across the couch. Was that Hoffman's Jacket? Oh man, he stayed he last night didn't he? Then where was he?

I heard a noise from the kitchen and stepped through the doorway warily. Hoffman's back was to me as I leaned against the doorway, trying to see past him to what he was doing.

"You are supposed to be resting." He said without turning around. I could almost feel him smirking at me as I stepped closer.

"Where are the door keys? I need to get to class! I have an assignment due in at 12!" I said slowly, holding back my exasperation.

Before he replied, I heard the door ring. He turned wordlessly, handing over the keys. I quickly walked back to the door and opened it to the sight of two extra smiley faces.

"Rise and shine silly!" said Alisha. Then Matt's head poked around the doorframe.

"What are you wearing? It looks like you've just got out of bed!" I glanced down at my clothes. Oh man, what to tell them now? They could not be here right now!

"Sorry, that was my fault… we did only just wake up." Hoffman's hand reached over mine and pulled the door so they could see him too. A knowing smile was passed between my two friends, which I very nearly spoiled by shouting 'NO NO NO NO NO!' at the top of my lungs. But Hoffman, slipped his arm around my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, a smile gracing his features, and a look in his eye that said, play along!

"Sorry, we slept in, didn't get a lot of sleep done last night," he said, giving Matt a wink. I jabbed him sharply in the side and hid my face in my hands in embarrassment. Bless my friends they just laughed at what they thought was my embarrassment at the rash statement, while in my head I wanted to kill Hoffman.

"Well we can see you are in good hands, so we'll see you in a bit…" They hugged me one by one, with Alisha giving me the 'call me later and explain ALLL of this to me look' before walking away. I could hear them whispering as Hoffman pushed the door shut.

We stood for a moment, neither of us moving, each afraid to break the moment. I dared not look up, and see his face. What would I see there? His smug look of 'I just saved your ass again' or smoething else…

He removed his arm and wandered back into the kitchen. I was left standing in next to the door feeling utterly confused. Did they honestly just fall for that? Were we that convincing?

"Are you going to stand there all day?" I turned as he placed a plate down on the coffee table. I walked around and sat down. The plate had pancakes stacked high, and they looked damn good.

"You cook?" I asked questioningly. I honestly didn't think he was the type, though I can't say I had ever even thought about what he liked doing before.

"Surprised? Don't get used to it." He answered with a smirk, which was more playful than reprimanding.

I was about to tuck in when the reflection of the TV clock on the coffee table surface jolted me upright again.

"Damn it! My assignment." I pulled my jacket back on and had a hand on the door handle when Hoffman had jumped over the couch and was pressed against the door. "What are you doing? I need to go!"

"I emailed your assignment while you were asleep this morning, so you don't have to go anywhere now. John's orders. You are to stay put today and rest." I just stared at him, open-mouthed.

"You went through my computer?!" I shouted pushing him backwards into the couch. He just laughed at me.

"Yes, the light was on, it was only hibernating and I thought it was best to be extra sure you weren't keeping any correspondence about this. The page happened to be open on your assignment with a big red label next to it saying that it needed to be in today. So I sent it. Very well done by the way, a thrilling read…" He said, that damnable grin returning to his face as I struggled to find words to express myself.

"GAH!" was what I settled for as I threw myself at him and we tumbled backwards onto the couch. He twisted beneath me and I soon found myself trapped once again under his arms. He leaned in close.

"You know, we do have all day now, and your friends already think…" I cut him off before he could continue as I slipped out from underneath him and rolled under the coffee table, coming up on the other side in a sitting position across from him.

"Don't push it. You can be satisfied with them just thinking it." I said, pulling the pancakes across the table and tucking in, flashing him a grin which was only slightly less spiteful if only for the fact that my mouth was stuffed with the pancakes he made…


End file.
